


Journey to Eternity

by mssrj_335



Series: FinnPoe Purple Prose [2]
Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Sequel Trilogy
Genre: Failed Mission, Feeeeeeelings, Hopeful Ending, Hurt/Comfort, Implied Force-Sensitive Poe Dameron, M/M, Pilot Poe Dameron, Promises, Purple Prose, feelings of hopelessness, idk guys
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-06
Updated: 2020-04-06
Packaged: 2021-03-02 01:00:19
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,207
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23516566
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mssrj_335/pseuds/mssrj_335
Summary: There’s a hiss, a crackle of static. He hears, “Poe? Poe where are you?” The voice is frantic, familiar. It cuts through him. “Dathomir—destroyed, I—”—The mission has failed and, against all odds, Poe's trying to make it home. He made a promise, after all.
Relationships: Poe Dameron/Finn
Series: FinnPoe Purple Prose [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1744870
Comments: 14
Kudos: 99





	Journey to Eternity

**Author's Note:**

> idk what this is, i just had to get it out  
> highly recommend a song for it, where the title originates  
> journey to eternity - shahram nazeri & hafez nazeri

He’s run so far and so fast, trying to forget the world he left behind. He’s trying to forget the faces and the names of those that remained, that he couldn’t save, alight and burning in the kind of destruction only evil could wreak. The mission—he failed. He has nothing to show, nothing to know, and the guilt tears at him. Only ahead, he can only think of what’s ahead. The recesses of space are as dark as eternity but he’s chasing it like there’ll be an end. He hopes that at the end, of the dark and the cold, there are the promising pinpricks of stars and far-off worlds. He prays that at the edge of the night is the comforting sheen of daybreak, gentle enough to replace this burning guilt, soft enough to wipe him free of pain. Someone is still waiting for him. He has to believe that.

There’s a spray off the nebula. It lights his face over the bow of his ship as he crashes through waves of purple hydrocarbon, blue methane. Starlight, bright and crisp and cold, burns into him, reflected in the tear tracks stained, drying stiff on his cheeks. His pursuers dodge and follow, light up the nebula around him with shots of sickly red. He tightens his grip on the controls. It’s too late to say he’s not afraid.

He is.

There’s a hiss, a crackle of static. He hears, “Poe? Poe where are you?” The voice is frantic, familiar. It cuts through him. “Dathomir—destroyed, I—”

The transmission cuts out and his gut twists. He can’t reply. What comms he had are destroyed, melted into an indistinguishable hunk of glass. He can’t dare hope for more than silence. Still, he does. There’s fire all around him but all he can focus on is the voice filling his ears.

“Poe—” It fades in and out. “I need—hear you—plea—home!”

He spirals. The nose of his ship ploughs through refuse and debris. Meteors and blaster fire strike, threaten to tear the steel to shreds. His ship screams. It’s being torn to pieces from all sides. They’re fast, but he’s faster; TIEs chasing him can’t keep pace. Eventually, the red fades, lost in explosions that rattle the nebula and spur him forward. Solar winds, remnants of nuclear creation shake his ship to its bolts, throwing off his bearing. Tears spring fresh in his eyes again. There’s no telling where or when the transmission came from. He’s lost. For the first time, he’s lost. Nav systems are all gone, the hyperdrive is shot. In all directions, there’s only the red and blue and purple light of the nebula burning. But he flies on, following the pull in his heart.

At the end, at the edge, there’s a promise left him.

A journey through eternity, alone in the vastness of space.

At the end, someone is calling him home.

Time slips from him, blends meaningless into the emptiness around him.

Faces he’s desperate to forget, or to remember, slip past, leaving guilt heavy in their wake.

The last words he’d said, the promise he made, haunt him.

Drive him.

Guide him.

The enormity of it threatens to overwhelm him but, at last, the waves part. The nebula breaks. On the other side, a star. Then a planet he left, still intact. A transmission cuts through, he hears it clear,

“Poe, I need to hear you.”

Poe’s heart trembles.

“Please, say something! Dathomir was destroyed, I need to know you made it offworld.”

His hands shake.

“Please…” Finn’s voice breaks, the transmission hisses. “Please, tell me you’re coming home.”

He pushes the ship as fast as she’ll go, through eternal space to planetfall, to her end.

“You promised.”

The ship shudders through the atmosphere; it’s too fast. He’s coming in too fast for the landing gear to last. He skids, metal shrieking in his ears and tearing apart around him. Smoke billows into the cockpit, noxious and choking. Out of the cracked transparisteel, he sees people flee and he prays they make it in time. The ship is still moving but he’s pushing the hatch open, fumbling with his helmet. His boots slip down the bow of his ship. He slides, something in his ankle twists and burns, he lands hard on unforgiving plascrete. His palms and knees are bleeding, like his ship is bleeding. Fuel stains the runway, soaks into his flight suit, and it’s all he can do to get clear of it. An instant and everything is thrown into crystal clear detail; there’s a brief moment of terror, then the ship explodes. He’s blown off his feet, new wounds scraping on top of old and setting his nerves on fire. Debris rains all around him, the fabric of his suit smokes and sputters. But through the smoke and fire and haze, he sees Finn, too good to be real.

“Poe!” Finn’s running for him, fear deep in the black of his eyes. His jacket flaps behind him, feet covering the distance at lightspeed. He’s a mirage, shimmering in the heat of destruction.

Before he can think, he’s on his feet, moving as fast as his twisted ankle will carry him. He hobbles, trips, one knee skids on the ground as he catches himself. With a grunt, he pulls his feet up. The fire and smoke are fading, the horror of impending obliteration receding. Finn’s here, he’s really here, and the eternal emptiness is far behind him.

A step, two, three, and they’re crashing together.

The air around them burns, like the nebula burned. Poe’s enveloped in warmth and a familiar scent that penetrates the stench of fuel and fire. He’s not coherent enough to say _I’m ok, I’m sorry, I love you_. Finn fits his arms around him and drags him from the runway, to the cool touch of grass and a kiss of clear blue sky.

“Poe?” Finn’s voice breaks, so much like the hissing transmission Poe blearily wonders if maybe he didn’t make it. Then, “Hey, c’mon talk to me.”

Finn’s kneeling in the grass, pulling Poe into his lap. His knee is digging into Poe’s back and his chest is heaving but finally, Poe feels blessedly grounded. Large, gentle hands cradle his face and Poe grasps desperately at the sensation.

“Finn, I—” The words lodge in his throat, tight and dry. He swallows back at the feeling but not enough to stop it. “I’m sorry.”

Finn’s face is shining, tears tracking down his cheeks. Poe has to reach up, wipe them away. They don’t belong there.

“What are you sorry for? You’re gonna be just fine,” Finn chokes. Poe wonders who he’s trying to convince.

"'m not gonna be able to pay that tax for a while."

Finn chokes down a wet laugh, and it makes Poe smile. There’s a soft moment, Finn’s stroking his face and everything feels real. His entire body throbs but it’s not enough to dull it. It still hurts, so yes, he must be fine. The next words escape Finn’s throat in a hot whisper that makes something tender and aching bloom in Poe’s chest.

“You came back.”

He laces his fingers with Finn’s, breathing him in.

“I promised.”


End file.
